Monday, September 04, 2006


when I was little, there was a running joke among my parents' mega-intellectual friends. We all lived near the university, and a lot of them were either professors there or they were working towards that goal. So the story goes that one day, Carlos was driving in the dark on his way home (after a long day at school, student-teaching and working on his dissertation) when he saw this huge, illuminated billboard with a single word that caused him profound excitement and roused his spirits despite his exhaustion. He came home to his wife and told her that apparently the government had started a wonderful and simple campaign that would surely have tremendous social consequences: he'd just driven past a sign that said "CONVERSE", people were being encouraged to talk to one another! His (American) wife, also a graduate student but ever the more practical of the two of them, gently broke it to him that the word on the sign was not a verb as he'd thought but rather the name of a company nearby that had a new shoe factory.

Their circle of friends lapped it up and repeated the story through the years, presumably as a reminder to never over-intellectualize things, although it never really stopped any of them from doing so. For years, I giggled every time we drove by that sign but I think deep down I did internalize the word as a verb. I'm no good at chit-chat. Don't get me wrong, I *can* do it but it exhausts me and makes me feel cheap, almost like I'm dirty and smelly with a big sign on my forehead that says "FAKE" in neon ligths. Have I said this before here? I don't remember. I'm the kind of person that wants to be able to sit with you somewhere comfortable and find out what you think, not about the weather or the latest celebrity breakup but about EVERYthing. I like to be able to have conversations about what makes people tick, why they get out of bed in the morning and why they want what they want and believe what they believe. Does that make me "intense"? I know some people have told me I'm too pushy, which horrified me because I don't ever push my beliefs on people (I don't think, at least I try not to), I just want to get to know them at a deeper level... which I guess is pushing intimacy, to a level that most people in this bullshit-coated society just aren't comfortable with. d'uh, funny the things I can figure out while I'm typing, I really need to do it more.

One of the reasons I haven't posted lately is because I'm very introspective right now. As much as I've been trying to get to know others at a deeper level, and reading blogs is so great for that, I've been finding it so very hard to open up and let others get to know me right now. There are so many parts of me that I feel protective over, that are too vulnerable, and I need to find a way to get past that and open up. It was the whole purpose of having a blog, having a place to air out my feelings, ideas, frustrations and my whole life. Mo and I had a big "feelings" talk last night. I feel bad for him because I've got enough angst for the two of us and sometimes I'm afraid that it'll drive a wedge in our relationship. He says he loves that about me, most of the time... except when I start grilling him about having feelings that he apparently doesn't have. *sigh* So, I guess I am pushy?

Last night, conversation around the dinner table was 99% about this year's football season, college and Pro. heh. All I had to contribute was that I heard the other day (on TV) that Clinton Portis' most recent injury shouldn't be so bad as to keep him out of the regular season. Mo's a huge Redskins fan, so I try and at least have a clue. However, the rest of the convo went over my head, it was like they were speaking Chinese. *sigh* Then Hyde spent most of the night farting, these noxious, loud and way-too-frequent fumes until I finally sent him to his room so that we wouldn't ALL have to suffer. Mo and Hyde were cracking up over the farting, while I really don't see what's so funny. Between the sports talk, the farting humor and the frequent comments about random boners, semi-chubs, and all manner of penis-related topics I'd rather not know about, I'm more convinced than ever that I need a daughter (or two), someone who likes sports as well as art, ballet, classical music. Someone whose biological functions I can relate to. But that's a whole other conversation right there...